The Message
by elbcw
Summary: 'You are soldiers, you know what is going to happen. Why don't you save us all the bother and just tell me what I need to know, and I will kill you all quickly' After d'Artagnan obtains some vital intelligence the four are captured and Aramis is tortured. Will d'Artagnan be able to keep quiet? And will he remember the intelligence after a bang to the head?
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: When I wrote 'War Stories', Athos was forced to recount some anecdotes of his life as a soldier. He tells several stories, this is the story behind one of his anecdotes.

The Message

Chapter One

Athos glanced across to d'Artagnan who was crouched over the mortally wounded man. The man was talking and d'Artagnan was listening intently. The information the man was giving was of vital importance, Athos hoped the man had the time left to pass it all on.

The whole mission had turned into a disaster as soon as they reached the rendezvous point. The tavern had not been too busy, a group of men at a table to the side of the bar and their contact sat on his own in the corner.

As soon as they crossed to the man in the corner the group of men had risen and charged them. One of the attackers had shot their informant in the chest. D'Artagnan had been the closest and knowing how important the information was, went straight to the man and pulled him off to the side.

The four men who were attacking them were well trained, Aramis had managed to take out the shooter with a reciprocal shot to the chest leaving them with one man each. The fight was quick. Athos took out his man when he became distracted by attempting to reach d'Artagnan. As he pulled his sword from the mans gut Athos turned to see Porthos finishing off his man and Aramis, with a characteristic flourish slicing across his opponent with his main gauche.

D'Artagnan was still with their informant. He turned to face them.

'He's dead,' he said simply.

Aramis crossed the room and knelt by the man, he checked for signs of life, finding none, he closed the man's eyes and crossed himself before quietly saying a prayer.

D'Artagnan rose, 'I have the information, we need to get back to Paris, I'll tell you what he said on the way.'

As Aramis finished his prayer and rose, the door to the Tavern burst open with six men spilling in, weapons out. Two gunshots went wide of their marks and a second sword fight began.

Athos glanced around and accounted for each of his friends. Porthos was taking on two of the men and had quickly pushed one of them backwards over a table leaving the man either stunned or unconscious. D'Artagnan, the freshest of the four of them was holding off a man of his own age with ease, his opponent did not seem as well trained as the others, Athos was confident d'Artagnan would deal with the man quickly.

Aramis was fending off an enthusiastic man who, although lacking in training made up for it with his shear bulk, each bruising swing of his large sword was slightly overbalancing the marksman, who would probably not begrudge some help, when it could be offered.

Athos was facing two men, one of which was easily dealt with, a swift slice across his side and he played no further part in the melee. The second man tried to take Athos out with an ill-advised stab of his sword, Athos easily parried it and hacked at the mans shoulder with the next swing of his arm, the wound would prove fatal in seconds.

A movement to his right caught Athos eye, the man that Porthos had pushed over was up and had darted around behind them, grabbing one of the spent guns as he did so. Athos saw what he intended to do and shouted out a warning, but he was too late. The man swept the weapon low to the ground hitting Aramis just below the knees taking his legs out from under him. The marksman crashed to the ground. Before he could regain his feet the two men had their swords pointed at his throat. Aramis would not be able to help the others any further.

MMMM

Porthos was about to land a killing blow on his opponent when he noticed several more men had entered the tavern, they had spread themselves out and were aiming guns at each Musketeer. He glanced around and saw first Athos then d'Artagnan drop their swords, he followed suit. He noticed two men pointing their swords at Aramis who was sprawled on the floor his hands out in submission.

Aramis was hauled to his feet and pushed to stand with them. They all glanced at each other silently asking if each man was injured. None of them were. Their weapons belts were removed, and their hands roughly tied behind their backs.

One of the men walked over to the body of their informant and kicked the mans leg ensuring he was dead. He grunted and turned back to face them.

'I take it he gave up the information?'

They all remained silent. Porthos knew where this was going. The man wanted the information as well, and he suspected, correctly, that they had it. What he did not know was if they all had the information or just one of them did. At the moment they were all valuable to him, but that could change.

'You are soldiers, you know what is going to happen. Why don't you save us all the bother and just tell me what I need to know, and I will kill you all quickly?'

Again, none of them responded.

'Very well, we will do it the hard way…take them.'

One by one they were grabbed and marched from the tavern. They were walked through the village towards the castle that dominated the area. Under normal circumstances Porthos would have enjoyed a visit to such a grand building. The villagers peeped out from behind doors and windows, mothers protectively pulled their children behind them. The man and his posse of thugs were clearly a source of fear for the poor villagers.

They reached the castle and were pushed through the impressive archway into a big courtyard. A large double doorway ahead of them opened into a welcoming hallway with a sweeping staircase leading to the upper floors. They were steered to the left of the doorway towards a smaller door. One by one they were forced down winding stone stairs. The man obviously did not want to disturb the rest of the household whilst he tortured his captives for their information.

MMMM

Aramis was at the back of the four as they were bundled through a corridor lit by torches along the wall. The man who had relieved them of their weapons lay the belts and his field medics bag on a large table at the end of the corridor, as each of his brothers was pushed into a room off the corridor. He watched as Athos was pushed over to a wall and chained by the wrists into place, Porthos and d'Artagnan received the same treatment.

As he entered the room one of the men, who he suspected was the leader, nodded towards a large table opposite the wall where the others had been chained. The man holding him pushed him towards the table. The ropes on his wrists were cut, but his arms were held back as one of the other men unbuckled his doublet. The two men roughly pulled the doublet off him and tossed it aside. Equally roughly they pushed him forwards onto the table hauling him across it so that he was lying face down. When he tried to push himself back up he found himself forced back and held there by several of the men. Aramis knew there was no point trying to struggle further until he understood the situation they were in and what was going to happen. Although he had a pretty good idea.

The position he was in meant he could not see his brothers. He had known them all long enough to know what they would each be doing though. Porthos would be angry and trying to pull at the manacles keeping him chained to the wall, probably cutting his wrists in the process. Athos would be glaring at the men, particularly the leader. And d'Artagnan would be glancing between his brothers and himself. D'Artagnan had the hardest job now. He had the information the man wanted, and he was going to have to watch as the men did whatever happened next without saying anything. Aramis felt sorry for the younger man. He also felt a bit sorry for himself. Being tortured was never pleasant, although he was not alone, so there was more chance of escape.

One of the men pulled at his shirt exposing the back of his shoulders, Aramis wondered what they were going to do. He knew they would want to cause him pain, if they were any good, they would be able to cause him pain without doing much physical damage to him. They may need to torture him for hours, or they would grow bored of torturing him and move onto one of his brothers. Aramis knew that both Athos and Porthos would be able to withstand a lengthy torture, but would d'Artagnan? And there was also the possibility that seeing him assaulted would make the young man talk in a vain hope of preventing further injury. He hoped d'Artagnan would hold out.

MMMM

Porthos had pulled at his chains when he saw Aramis being roughly pulled about. When they pulled his doublet off and pinned him to the table it had taken a lot of will power not to shout at the men. But he knew there was nothing any of them could do. All they could do was watch for a chance to escape. And much as he hated the thought, Aramis was their best chance at that moment. He was the only one of them who was not chained up. How long they would have to wait for an escape opportunity and how much pain Aramis would have to endure beforehand was something none of them could answer.

D'Artagnan, looked worried, Porthos could almost read his thoughts. The young musketeer was the only one of the them who could stop the torture that was about to happen. But the information was too important and sensitive to give up. They might have to watch as their brother was injured, possibly killed. Porthos hated knowing what Aramis was about to endure and hated having to watch as d'Artagnan's guilt overtook him. He wondered if it would be different if d'Artagnan had had the time to relay the information to them. If they all knew it at least Aramis would be keeping silent through choice. Porthos knew that Aramis, had he known the information, would not give it up through torture. In an horrific way it was probably lucky that the man had not chosen d'Artagnan to be tortured, they did not know how well the young man would hold out under duress. Although watching his brother being tortured may be just as hard for him.

MMMM

Athos had not changed his expression since being pushed against the wall and chained there. He was staring at the leader. The leader was ignoring him. Athos knew that Aramis would not break under torture, but he was not so sure about d'Artagnan. The recently commissioned man had not been in this situation before. If the leader decided that Aramis did not know anything and that the rest of them were not going to speak out to protect him from further pain, he might turn his attention to his youngest captive. Athos glanced across to d'Artagnan whose eyes were wide. He was trying to school his expression to not show the fear in his eyes, but he was not succeeding very well. The younger man looked at Athos, who very slightly shook his head. D'Artagnan had to remain silent whatever happened, even if Aramis was seriously hurt or killed, even if the men turned their attention towards the other captives.

Athos looked across to the leader who was standing beside the prone form of Aramis resting his hand on the marksman's exposed back. Athos could see that Aramis' breathing had quickened a little. He was glad, in a selfish way, that they could not see their friends face. Watching the marksman trying not to show pain and, no doubt, eventually failing would be harder to deal with than simply seeing Aramis being hurt.

'Now, tell me the information or I am going to hurt this man. I am going to cause him pain. He is going to scream with pain. He will not be able to help himself,' the man leaned over Aramis and spoke to him, 'if you would like a swift death for yourself and your friends I suggest you tell me the information…No?' the man looked back across to his other captives, 'no?'

The three restrained men remained silent, Athos glaring, Porthos straining slightly on his chains, and d'Artagnan trying to remain calm.

The leader pulled a small sharp knife from his belt, Athos recognised it as the sort used to skin animals. The man rested the blade against Aramis shoulder before slicing it gently, with no pressure across the skin, a thin line of blood trickled from the shallow cut. Aramis had not moved, but Athos could see he had tensed up slightly.

MMMM

The knife sliced across Aramis' back again, the leader of the men glanced across at them before returning to his task. D'Artagnan could not bring himself to watch. He had skinned rabbits for his mother when he was very young, he knew the process. But this was a living man, his friend, and he had the power to put a stop to it.

He was caught between ending the torture of his friend and being responsible for all their deaths or keeping quiet as Aramis was sliced up by the man with the knife.

D'Artagnan glanced across at Athos who was looking at him again. The look that Athos conveyed said more than he probably could have verbalised. D'Artagnan was to keep quiet. They would have to wait the torture out. But when Aramis, who had clearly been trying to hold back finally let out a cry of pain d'Artagnan found himself on the verge of talking.

Porthos was looking at him now, despite the mixed emotions crossing the big musketeers face d'Artagnan again got the message. Keep quiet.

Aramis screamed, he struggled against his captors who held him firmly down. The marksman writhed and squirmed but could not escape the man's ministrations. D'Artagnan could not quite see what the man was doing to Aramis, but it was clearly having an adverse effect on his friend.

D'Artagnan wondered how much longer the marksman could endure the torture.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The leader turned back to the restrained men, the bloody knife held loosely in his hand, 'shall I continue. I'm not sure how much longer he will remain conscious,' the man glanced back at Aramis, 'he'll probably pass out soon…that would give you a chance to reflect on what is left of your lives.'

Porthos was not looking at their captor he was watching Aramis. His friend was indeed breathing heavily, almost gasping for breath. When he had screamed the first time Porthos had yanked at the chains holding him back. He hated watching as his friend struggle, with decreasing strength to move away from the man who was cutting him. From the angle he was at he could see the leader of the men slowly slide the sharp blade under Aramis' skin and expertly separate it from his body. Porthos hated to imagine how much the action must have hurt Aramis. The marksman was tough, but every man had his limits. He doubted he could have withstood the treatment either.

The man turned back to Aramis and leaned over him again, peeling the skin back slowly before grabbing it and ripping it from Aramis' body. The scream of pain the action caused was quickly followed by the marksman's body stilling. The tension and shaking in his limbs gone. Aramis had passed out. Porthos was almost relieved.

'Hmm, I'm impressed, he lasted a lot longer than I thought he would,' said the man after he had double checked that Aramis was unconscious, 'I think I should like to continue with this one when he wakes up. Leave the others where they are,' the man turned to the rest of them, 'I'll be back in a couple of hours to continue…unless you want to give up the information now?'

They remained silent the man turned back to the still form of the marksman, he pulled the loose shirt back up to cover Aramis' shoulders, being careful to lay the fabric over the wound he had created, patting it down slightly. Porthos knew the action was very deliberate. Having the fabric of his shirt pulled off the wound would be as excruciatingly painful as the injury being inflicted was in the first place.

The man turned with a sneer to the three men chained to the wall, nodding his head to them as he left the room. The other men followed, the last man closed the door behind him. Porthos was closest to the door and managed to lean to the side far enough to see all the men retreating from the corridor and back up the stairs. They were alone. He nodded to Athos.

MMMM

'Aramis?' hissed Athos as loud as he dared, 'we're alone…'

'Aramis, come on, I know it hurts, but you're the only one that can get us free…' said Porthos.

'Aramis,' said Athos again slightly louder.

'OK…' came a mumbled reply from the marksman.

Both Athos and Porthos breathed a sigh of relief. Aramis slowly moved his arms up to push himself up to kneel on the table. He swayed slightly before twisting himself around to sit on the edge. The marksman was pale and looked on the verge of passing out again, it took him a few seconds to regain his focus.

'Aramis, stay awake, to your right by the wall, there's an iron bar…use it to pry our manacles off…Aramis.'

The marksman managed a slight nod and pushed himself off the table, with sluggish, pained movements, and a visible shake to his arms as he reached out and retrieved the iron bar. When he appeared to lose focus again a pained expression crossing his face Athos spoke again, firmly.

'Aramis, come over here and use the bar to break the chain.'

Aramis did as he was told. With a slightly awkward walk he crossed the room to stand in front of Athos. He reached up to place the bar between the chain and the wall but paused as the movement agitated his injury, Athos watched as his eyes lost focus again.

'Aramis, now, get me free then you can sit down for a few minutes.'

Aramis renewed his effort, he pushed the bar between one of the chains loops and pulled it downwards quickly. He was unable to stifle a cry of pain as again the movement agitated his injury. But he had done what he needed to do, Athos had one hand free. He reached forwards and grabbed the bar from Aramis' hand.

'Sit down,' said Athos, Aramis obeyed, swaying slightly as he crumpled to floor.

Athos quickly released his other hand and went to work on d'Artagnan's restraints. D'Artagnan was staring at Aramis.

'How did he do that? Did he make himself go unconscious?'

Despite the situation Porthos managed a huff of laughter, 'we've been soldiering longer than you…we know a trick or two.'

Once Athos had freed d'Artagnan he moved to Porthos releasing him quickly. Porthos crossed to Aramis who was still sat on the floor staring off into the distance.

'Hey, come on, you need to focus for a bit yet, when we are out of this and we get back to the horses, you can ride with me and not have to think about anything else for a bit…OK?'

'OK…but it really hurts, I'm not going to be any use to you…leave me here.'

'Don't talk rubbish, you idiot, just keep out of the way if we find any trouble.'

'Porthos, help me with this lock,' said Athos who had watched the brief exchange from the doorway.

Athos knew that Aramis would do his best but for now they were effectively only three men. He returned his attention to the door that was currently keeping them from even starting an escape attempt. Porthos looked at the lock briefly, then looked around the room.

'Need something slim to pick it with…'

'Here,' said d'Artagnan pulling a small thin knife from his boot, 'Constance gave it to me a few weeks ago, it's not much use for anything, I've been keeping it for luck more than anything.'

Porthos smiled, he took the small knife and bent at the knee to get to work on the lock. Athos watched as Porthos, with a delicacy which was contrary to his usual brutish behaviour picked the lock.

Athos went back to Aramis who had managed to compose himself a little, he had pushed himself up to stand, although he was leaning against the wall. Athos stepped behind him and looked at the bloody mess of his shirt.

'There's nothing we can do for you for now.'

'I know, let's get out of here first, I'm not particularly looking forward to getting this cleaned anyway,' replied Aramis with a wry smile.

D'Artagnan had picked up Aramis doublet and held it out for him, Aramis shook his head.

'If I try putting that on, I probably will pass out.'

'Got it,' said Porthos drawing their attention back to the door. Porthos slowly pulled the door open and leaned out to peer down the corridor, he looked back and smiled.

They filed out. Each man grabbing their weapon belts as they did so. Athos and Porthos took one each of Aramis' and d'Artagnan swung the medical bag across his shoulders.

MMMM

D'Artagnan watched as Porthos grabbed Aramis around the waist to guide the pale marksman along the corridor and pushed him ahead as they climbed the stairs. Athos reached the door that led back to the court yard, he eased it open slightly and peered out.

Turning back to friends he said, 'there is no way we are going that way, too many men around.'

D'Artagnan turned to the door he had stopped by, half way up the stairs, he bent down and peered through the keyhole. When he saw no one, he reached up and tried the handle, the door was unlocked, he slowly pushed it open and looked around. The door opened onto another corridor which probably ran adjacent to the courtyard. He stepped into it. The others followed.

He slowly made his way along the corridor, pausing at each closed door he reached and listening, when he heard nothing he moved along again. He was aware of the others following him. At the end the corridor turned to the left, he peered around the corner, a heavy door stood at the end. He approached it and tried to push it open.

The door was either too heavy for him or very stiff on its rusty hinges. D'Artagnan looked back at the others. Athos stepped forward and moved to push the door with d'Artagnan. The door gave a little and began to swing, once they had built up a little momentum it moved quite easily, but Athos had to hold the door to keep it from swinging closed. They stood back to allow Porthos to help Aramis through.

'Let's hope any other doors we come across are a bit better maintained,' said d'Artagnan as he and Athos controlled the door as it swung shut, not wanting it to make a noise.

'The castle is on several levels, it's built into the rock, there's likely to be other exits than that courtyard,' said Porthos as they continued looking for a way out.

D'Artagnan realised they had been lucky so far, not to have met anyone. But it was only a matter of time before they did, or their escape was noticed.

MMMM

The pain of his shirt tugging at the wound on his back was immense, but he knew he had to at least try to remain focused. Despite suggesting they leave him behind he had known the idea would not be entertained. Now that they were moving through the castle desperately trying to find an exit he was determined not to be a burden to his brothers. He would hold on until it was safe for him to deal with the injury. Not that he was looking forward to that particularly, but the sooner it was tended to the better. Aramis was glad they still had his medical bag, at least he knew there were clean dressing and alcohol to use.

Porthos had his arm around his waist and Aramis knew the big man was taking as much of his weight as he could. Despite the injury being to his shoulders he still felt weak and on the verge of passing out from the pain.

They reached another big, heavy door. The castle was certainly a defensible one. Porthos released him as he stepped forwards to help Athos push the door open. This was also weighted in such as way that it would swing shut again if not held open. Athos held it as Porthos returned to him and helped him through.

As Porthos and Aramis cleared the door, they heard a noise behind them. Porthos turned, pulling the marksman around with him causing him to hiss in pain at the sudden movement. Two armed men were approaching, one of them levelled a gun, and fired.

MMMM

D'Artagnan cried out as the ball hit his arm, pushing him back slightly with the momentum. Without thinking Athos stepped forward releasing the heavy door which swung shut. D'Artagnan had managed to draw his gun, but the shock from being shot meant that his aim was off. One of the men had stepped forwards quickly and shoved d'Artagnan backward. The young musketeer smacked his head on the heavy door and slumped down to the floor. Stunned.

Athos was able to get a quick look at the young man, before being forced to engage the two men in a sword fight.

The two men were no swordsmen, but they were very keen. Athos had to duck a high swing from one of the men and quickly side step a thrust from the other. As he continued to clash swords with the two men he was aware of d'Artagnan trying to regain his footing. The young man was clearly being affected by the wound to his arm or the bang to his head, or possibly both. D'Artagnan slipped back down to the ground.

Athos wondered if d'Artagnan had passed out.

MMMM

As the door had swung shut, Porthos had been given no choice but to let go of Aramis, who crumpled to the floor, and try to grab the door before it swung all the way closed. He was not quick enough to grab the edge of the door.

He pulled up the big metal ring that was on their side of the door and heaved it backwards. The door did not budge. It had taken two of them to push the door from the other side, alone, he doubted he would be able to open the door.

Porthos listened to the fighting on the other side of the door knowing there was nothing he could do to help, until he could get the door open.

MMMM


	3. Chapter 3

Authors note: There is medical stuff. I am not a medical person. I apologies in advance.

Chapter Three

Athos parried another swipe of the enthusiastic man's sword. At the same time, he blocked the other man with his sword. He pushed back with both his sword and main gauche, causing both men to take a couple of steps back.

One of the men pulled his gun from his belt, but his enthusiasm finally got the better of him and he fumbled the gun. It fell and skittered across the floor knocking into d'Artagnan's leg. The dazed musketeer grabbed it and, knowing he would stand no chance firing it held it up, butt first, toward Athos.

Athos saw the move and after a wild thrust at the second man stepped back quickly and grabbed the gun and swung it around, shooting the overly enthusiastic swordsman. The ball penetrated the mans chest near his heart. His facial expression changed to shock as he stumbled back a few paces, blood blossoming across his shirt. He sank to his knees before falling backwards, the life dimming in his eyes.

The second man tried to take advantage of the moment and stepped towards d'Artagnan who was again trying to pull himself to his feet. Athos put himself between the two and pushed the opponent back a few paces, before grabbing d'Artagnan by his good arm and dragging him up to stand. Athos snaked his arm around the injured musketeer's waist whilst holding off the other man.

MMMM

Porthos pulled at the door again, Aramis knew his friend would not manage it on his own. He pushed himself up and walked over, grabbing the metal ring alongside the big musketeer. Porthos looked at him, uncertain.

'We'll worry about me in a minute,' said Aramis. Their friends were in greater need.

As one, they pulled. Aramis cried in pain but continued to pull at the door. He knew, from watching the doors previously that once they had the door moving Porthos would probably be alright on his own. But they had to work together to get the momentum. With all the strength he could muster, and knowing he would suffer for the effort Aramis heaved at the door.

The heavy door slowly swung open. Once it was moving Porthos pushed Aramis back firmly. The marksman staggered out of the way, panting hard, worried he would pass out again but desperate not to.

Porthos disappeared around the edge of the door. Aramis was worried it would swing shut again, he knew there was no chance of him opening it on his own. But Porthos must have held the door open. He heard a gunshot and the sound of a body crumpling to the floor followed by some shuffling, before his friends appeared around the door.

Athos was holding onto d'Artagnan who was pale and looked on the verge of passing out. Aramis could see that his friend had been shot, his arm dangled loosely at his side. Porthos followed allowing the door to close behind him.

'We need to get out of here, now,' said Porthos as he walked towards Aramis.

'Help d'Artagnan, I'll managed on my own,' said Aramis, he could see that the young man was in far more need than him.

Porthos grunted his agreement before turning back to d'Artagnan and slipping his arm around the mans waist to help support his weight.

As the men passed him, he grabbed his sword from the weapons belt that Athos was carrying. Athos looked at him with amusement.

'I know, I probably wouldn't last five seconds, but it's better than nothing,' said Aramis with a grin before taking the lead along the corridor.

He moved as quickly as he could, which was not much faster than the three men behind him. He could not swing his arms without causing himself pain and the fabric of his shirt had pulled at the wound in places and was continuing to tug. If he were not filled with a serge of energy he doubted he would have lasted as long as he had.

A door, unlike the previous annoyingly heavy ones loomed into view. Aramis could see daylight through the gap around the door.

As they neared it a man stepped out of a room off the corridor. He looked at the four approaching musketeers, a look of surprise on his face. Aramis knew he could waste no time, he also knew he could not fight the man for any length of time. But he could keep the man busy for a few seconds.

The man drew his sword and raised it, yelling as he did so. Aramis managed to bring his sword up and blocked the first swing, but the pain the movement caused had his vision greying. He sagged against the wall as the man took a step back pulling his arm back to thrust forward at Aramis.

The sword was swept away in mid-air by Porthos' own. The man was exposed by the movement, Porthos took a step forward plunging his main gauche into his gut. The man chocked a couple of times before falling to the floor.

MMMM

After peeling Aramis off the wall, the marksman nodding his thanks between gasped breaths, Porthos tried his luck with the door handle. It was unlocked. He pulled the door open and peered out. He turned back to the others and beckoned them on.

Athos went first, still holding d'Artagnan who was struggling to stay conscious, blood dripping down the sleeve of his doublet and on to the floor. Aramis stumbled after them. Once they were all out Porthos pulled the door closed behind them.

He turned and saw the others looking at him.

'Which way would you suggest?' said Athos glancing around.

'No idea, down, seems a good start,' replied Porthos, leading the way.

He was aware of Athos gently guiding d'Artagnan down the narrow path he had found that led away from the castle. The path was too narrow for him to be able to assist them. Aramis brought up the rear but was already lagging behind a little, the marksman unable to hide the pain and fatigue from his expression.

'There,' said Athos nodding to the left of Porthos.

Porthos looked over and saw a partially hidden cave entrance.

'If we are going to stop there, we can't go in from this direction, we'd leave too much evidence, look at the brambles, it would be obvious we'd been through.'

Athos nodded, Porthos led them on a few more yards before breaking away from the rough path and picking his way thought the rocks towards the cave mouth. He stepped back to allow Athos and d'Artagnan to pass. Aramis followed, stumbling as he did so. Porthos grabbed him eliciting a cry of pain by doing so.

As Porthos helped Aramis further into the cave, out of sight of the castle and the rough path, they found Athos knelt by d'Artagnan who was lying on the ground.

'He's passed out,' said Athos looking up, 'I'm surprised he managed to get this far.'

'Let's hope he doesn't have any memory loss,' said Aramis as Porthos lowered him down to sit by the unconscious man.

Porthos glanced as Athos, Aramis was correct to be concerned. D'Artagnan was the only one of them who had the information that had landed them into the trouble they were in. If the musketeer had lost his memory of the intelligence, their mission would have been for nothing.

MMMM

'I'm sorry Aramis, but we've got to do this,' said Porthos with a conciliatory smile.

Aramis nodded, although, thought Athos, it was clear the man was apprehensive. Cleaning and dressing his wound was probably going to hurt as much as receiving it. The marksman sorted through his medical back and found what they would need.

'You'll have to soak the shirt off, pulling it will take more skin, that I would rather keep, if you don't mind,' said Aramis wryly.

Athos knelt in front of Aramis and held onto his shoulders whilst Porthos began to soak the stuck fabric off the wound.

They had been in the cave for a few minutes. Athos had spent some time peering out, back up at the castle to ensure they were in no immediate danger. When there were no signs of pursuit he decided they were safe enough to regroup and tend to Aramis and d'Artagnan. Porthos had cleaned the gunshot wound to d'Artagnan's arm and applied a field dressing. He and Athos were more concerned with Aramis' injury which was now covered with dirt from their hectic escape.

Aramis was loosely holding onto Athos' forearms and leaning forward slightly. Athos could not see the marksman's face but from the sharp intake of breath as Porthos began to dampen the shirt down he knew his friend was in considerable pain. As Porthos began to ease the fabric away from the damaged skin Aramis tried to stifle a cry of pain. Athos grabbed one of their leather belts and forced Aramis to bite down on it. He did not want the pained man to inadvertently give away their hiding place.

It was slow work, but Porthos managed to peel the linen away from the wound. Aramis was unable to hide the shake the pain was causing him. He was drenched in sweat and was resting his head on Athos' shoulder by the time Porthos had finished, his breathing hard.

Porthos held up the small bottle of alcohol, Athos nodded. The pain the alcohol was going to cause would be the worst part for their friend.

Athos pushed Aramis back slightly, 'we have to clean it now…ready?'

Aramis managed a nod, his eyes were screwed shut.

Porthos poured the alcohol, Aramis screamed through his makeshift gag briefly before slumping forward against Athos.

'Probably for the best,' said Porthos as he continued to clean the wound.

After dressing the injury and lying Aramis on his side as comfortably as they could make him, Athos and Porthos turned their attention back to d'Artagnan.

'Well we ain't going anywhere until they wake up. I'm gonna stitch his wound now, get it done.'

Athos nodded, 'I agree. I'm going to scout around, if I can get back to the horses without being seen I will bring them as close as I can safely get them.'

As he spoke Athos sorted through their weapons, making sure he had as much as he could carry.

'OK, when you get back, if they ain't woken up, we'll just sling them over their horses, I don't think we should hang around unless we have to…Be careful.'

Athos nodded again, 'look after them,' he said as he turned to go, knowing their friends were in good hands.

MMMM

Porthos watched Athos disappear from sight before turning his attention back to his injured friends. Aramis was still unconscious and showing no signs of waking. D'Artagnan was equally still, Porthos gathered what he would need before settling down beside the young musketeer. They had been pleased on their preliminary examination of the injury that the ball had gone through d'Artagnan's arm. At least Porthos only had to clean and stitch the injury. He knew they were not keen on his stitching, he was not as neat as either Aramis or d'Artagnan were, but as both men were his current patients there was little he could do. He pushed d'Artagnan's sleeve up and unravelled their field dressing. Porthos cleaned the wound, enjoying the lack of protest from the young man, it certainly was easier to stitch a man when he was so compliant.

As he worked he glanced over at Aramis who was watching him.

'How long you been awake for?'

'Not long... Where's Athos?'

'Off to get the horses, hopefully. How you feeling?'

'I've felt better.'

'We cleaned it thoroughly, you'll be fine.'

'Thank you. What about him?'

'Ball went through, just needs stitching.'

'Any sign of him waking up yet?'

'No…do you think he will have memory loss?'

Aramis slowly eased himself up to sit, leaning gingerly against the cave wall. Porthos could see the man was pale, but he looked alert, he wished they had something to help with the obvious pain he was in.

'It's possible. If he does, we'll have to hope it's temporary,' said Aramis with a wince as he settled himself down.

Porthos finished the stitching and held the injured arm up for Aramis to see. Porthos chuckled when Aramis nodded his approval. He dressed the wound before gently lying the injured arm across the unconscious mans chest.

Porthos sat back on his heels, and looked over at Aramis who was studying d'Artagnan.

'He's waking up.'

The young musketeer was showing signs of regaining his consciousness. They both watched, wondering if he had his memories intact.

MMMM


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Aramis would have liked to move to d'Artagnan's side but knew he would have struggled and did not want to cause a distraction. Instead, he watched as Porthos gently tried to rouse d'Artagnan. The younger man moaned and slowly opened his eyes, when he tried to move his injured arm Porthos stopped him, but not before a hiss of pain passed d'Artagnan's lips.

'You were shot…do you remember?' said Porthos quietly as d'Artagnan managed to focus on the big musketeer.

D'Artagnan blinked a few times and for a moment Aramis thought he had passed out but then he opened his eyes fully.

'It hurts…was I hit on the head?'

'No, you were pushed into a door, banged the back of your head…do you remember?'

Aramis watched as Porthos tried to assess the state of d'Artagnan's memory without worrying the young man. If they were to bombard him with questions about the intelligence that only he knew the musketeer might have become flustered trying to remember.

'We were in the castle…Aramis?'

'I'm fine,' said Aramis from his place to the right of d'Artagnan.

D'Artagnan managed to turn his head slowly to look at him. Aramis could see he was not focused.

'You were hurt.'

'Yes, but I'll be OK…do you remember me being hurt?'

If he could remember their time in the dungeon he would be on his way to remembering the fight in the tavern.

'I wanted to tell the man…I could have prevented it…I'm sorry.'

'What did you want to tell the man?' asked Porthos trying to refocus d'Artagnan.

D'Artagnan took a few breaths his eyes wandered, looking around the cave.

'Where are we? Athos?'

'Gone to get the horses. We're in a cave just outside the castle.'

Aramis was starting to worry. D'Artagnan was becoming more unfocused he looked around for a few more seconds before closing his eyes again. Porthos looked across to Aramis and shook his head, the young man had passed out again.

'He remembered some things,' said Aramis, although he knew he did not sound very confident.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before d'Artagnan awoke.

'What happened? Why does my arm hurt?'

'You were shot, do you remember?'

Aramis wondered if they would have exactly the same conversation again, although d'Artagnan did seem more focused this time.

'In the castle. Escaping. Aramis?'

'I was injured, but I'll be OK. You hit your head,' Aramis paused before deciding to just ask the question, 'can you remember the intelligence you got from the man in the tavern?'

They both waited.

D'Artagnan looked at Porthos then turned to Aramis, he looked a little confused.

'Of course I do…'

Both men breathed out sighs of relief.

'Sorry,' said Porthos, 'Aramis thought you might have forgotten after banging your head.'

'I was not the only one concerned,' retorted Aramis with a smirk closely followed by a hiss of pain.

D'Artagnan tried to sit up but Porthos put a hand on his chest stopping him, 'slowly, don't mind 'im for a minute,' he said nodding towards Aramis who was grimacing in pain.

'Sorry,' said Aramis.

Porthos slowly helped d'Artagnan to sit up, Aramis looked at him carefully. The young man did not appear to be unfocused and confused any more.

They all looked towards the mouth of the cave as they heard footsteps.

MMMM

Athos stopped a few paces into the cave he looked expectantly at Porthos, who did not get a chance to speak.

'I'm fine.'

'I remembered the intelligence.'

Porthos nodded his agreement, 'we were a bit worried the first time 'e came around, but he's fine now.'

'There is no sign of movement from the castle yet, but it is only a matter of time. I have moved the horses to the bottom of the path,' Athos paused before walking further into the cave, 'tell us the intelligence…just in case.'

'Your confidence in my survival all the way back to Paris is comforting,' said d'Artagnan with a grin.

Once Athos was settled they listened intently as d'Artagnan repeated what their contact had told him as he was dying in the tavern hours beforehand. Once all the men knew the intelligence it would not matter if only one of them made it back to Paris. It was sobering for them all to know that the information was more important than any of them. But this intelligence had the potential to save many lives which was heartening for them.

They gathered their weapons, Aramis managed to put one of his belts back on, Porthos took the other one. Athos helped d'Artagnan to pull his doublet back on over his injured arm before making a sling from spare bandages.

He led them out of the cave with caution, they all looked with apprehension at the castle. Athos was surprised they had not seen any sign of a search being made, their escape had not been quiet, and they would have been missed from the dungeon by now.

As they reached the horses a problem occurred to him, two of them were injured and might not be able to ride.

'Provided we don't go too fast, I should be OK on my own,' said Aramis as if reading Athos' mind.

'I agree,' said d'Artagnan walking up to his horse, 'although I wouldn't mind a hand up.'

Porthos chuckled and stepped forwards to help d'Artagnan mount up. Athos helped Aramis who struggled to do so without a whimper of pain.

'Are you sure about riding alone?' asked Athos quietly.

'Now that I am up, I should be OK,' replied the marksman with a smile.

Although he knew it would take them some time, they set off at a steady trot, Athos kept a close eye on the two injured men. True to his word Aramis appeared to be coping with the ride, d'Artagnan had paled a little as the movement of the horse was agitating his concussion. Athos decided quite early on that once they were a safe distance from the castle he would ride on alone and pass the intelligence on to those that needed it in Paris.

MMMM

As they continued their trot Athos had outlined his plan. Porthos was in full agreement. D'Artagnan, although trying to hide it, was clearly suffering and Aramis would not last much longer despite his assurances that he was fine. They planned to stop at a tavern whilst Athos carried on. Porthos estimated a couple of days rest for both injured men would mean they could ride with less issues.

They all looked at each other when the sound of galloping horses reached them. There time was up. Athos glanced at each of his brothers.

'Go,' said Aramis, 'we'll be fine.'

With a reluctant nod Athos pushed his horse forward and disappeared along the road. Porthos watched him go for a few seconds. They probably had a few minutes to find somewhere to hide.

'You should go as well, we'll hide somewhere,' said d'Artagnan to Porthos.

'Oh no, you ain't getting rid of me that easily,' replied Porthos with a firm stare at both his friends.

'We need somewhere to hide, and quickly,' said Aramis looking around.

Porthos nodded towards a rocky cliff edge. The area around the castle was filled with ravines and sheer cliffs, one of which loomed up beside them. D'Artagnan dismounted and slapped his horse's rump, the beast trotted forward and disappeared off the road into a copse of trees. Porthos did the same and turned to Aramis who had not managed to dismount, the man had got as far as slipping his feet out of the stirrups and leaned forward. Now he was frozen, his eyes screwed shut in pain, the action of trying to dismount on his own had tugged at his wound. Porthos grabbed his friend around the waist and pulled him down. When Aramis cried out in pain Porthos clamped his hand over the injured mans mouth to smother the sound despite the fact he doubted their pursuers would have heard.

'Come on, they'll be here soon,' said d'Artagnan pulling at Porthos' arm as the he tried to keep Aramis from collapsing to the floor.

'I'm OK, it's OK,' panted Aramis. Porthos took his arm and dragged the marksman along as he followed d'Artagnan.

They clambered up the cliff face along a narrow path, Porthos was forced to let Aramis walk on his own, but kept his arm out to grab the man if he were to veer too close to the drop on his right. D'Artagnan stopped at a large overhanging rock, there was space beneath it that they could push themselves into. The spot could be defended. The enemy could not approach from the other direction, the narrow path disappeared a few yards from the overhang and the rock was too sheer for anyone to climb up. The only way to reach the overhanging rock was to follow the same path they had.

'You do realise we are now trapped here?' said Porthos glancing back the way they had come. He knew there would not be time to retreat before their pursuers rounded the bend in the road.

'With any luck they will just ride passed us,' replied d'Artagnan as he stood to the side to allow a pale Aramis to move under the overhanging rock.

Porthos crouched down beside his friend who looked close to passing out. D'Artagnan slipped in beside them. They waited in silence and watched the road intently. The sound of the horses was close. Within a few seconds they rounded the bend and came into sight. Porthos counted a dozen men, including their leader. As they thundered passed the leader sat up and slowed his horse. The other men followed suit. All of them had come to a halt within a hundred yards of the Musketeers hiding place.

The leader looked to his left at the copse of trees the horses had all wandered into. Porthos could tell they had been spotted.

'I know you are nearby,' called the man, 'I know two of you are injured and I know you only have a limited amount of ammunition. I can wait you out. I can wait as long as it takes my friends…give yourselves up.'

The three musketeers kept themselves still and pushed as far back as they could manage. Porthos leaned out a little, the leader was directing the men to set up camp. In the failing light he realised they would be spending the night where they were, with little protection, surrounded by men who wanted to torture and kill them.

But at least their chosen hiding place was defensible, he thought with amusement.

MMMM

D'Artagnan was glad the others seemed not to have noticed how much pain he was in. His head was pounding from the horse ride and the panic that had ensued when they had to find somewhere to hide. Now that they were hidden he could not settle, he could not relax, they had to remain on alert. They could be found at any moment.

Aramis, who was sitting forward slightly next to him looked pale. D'Artagnan wondered which of them was in the worse state. He decided it was probably pretty even, although Aramis did not have a head injury to deal with. D'Artagnan closed his eyes as a wave of pain washed over him. He felt a hand resting on his leg.

'Try to sleep for a bit, we can watch them for now,' said Aramis quietly.

'We need to stay alert…I'm fine,' replied d'Artagnan.

'Have you been takin' lessons from him?' asked Porthos as he indicated Aramis who smiled at the remark.

'Really, it's fine, my head aches and my arm hurts but really, it's fine,' d'Artagnan smirked as he spoke despite the pain.

Porthos rolled his eyes and went back to watching the men below. D'Artagnan managed to lean forward a little and observe the camp being set up. The men had corralled their horses, along with those belonging to the musketeers, and were watering them. Two campfires were being set up and a couple of men appeared to be preparing food.

'They look like they're well prepared,' said Aramis with a sigh, 'they really are going to wait us out…'

When Aramis paused, staring at something intently, d'Artagnan tried to work out what the man was looking at.

'What?'

'Porthos?'

'Hmm?'

'Do you think you could take out the leader? The shot would reach him, he's perfectly placed.'

'I thought you were the marksman?'

'My hands are shaking too much…I can admit to fallibility occasionally,' said Aramis with a hint of humour in his eyes.

D'Artagnan watched Porthos assessing the shot. The big musketeer nodded to himself before pulling his gun from his belt and checking it was over. The light was fading, if Porthos was to make the shot it would have to be now.

'If we can take out the leader, it goes one of two ways,' said Aramis, 'the other men will either leave, as they are just following orders and if there is no one to order them around anymore they won't care about us…'

'Or they will attack us seeking revenge, because we have taken out their beloved leader,' finished Porthos as he lined up the gun.

'This will give our hiding spot away,' pointed out d'Artagnan unnecessarily.

Aramis nodded, 'I think it's worth the risk.'

Porthos fired the gun. The leader fell to the ground, a neat wound in his head.

'Good shot,' said Aramis quietly.

MMMM


	5. Chapter 5

Authors note: Thanks for the reviews as always. Last chapter.

Chapter Five

Athos rode his horse hard. The beast was sweating and snorting, he knew it would not last much longer. He pulled the horse back to a canter then down to a trot for a few minutes. He was entering Paris and could afford to slow down. He headed for the garrison. The darkening sky was not a welcoming sight for him. He was worried about his brothers. With both Aramis and d'Artagnan injured a night exposed to the elements would not be easy. He could only hope the danger had passed and they had been able to continue their journey. He hoped, but doubted the reality would mirror his hope.

As he entered the garrison yard he dismounted and after throwing the reins to one of the stable boys he climbed the stairs and knocked on Treville's door.

He heard Treville telling him to enter, he pushed the door open, he did not wait to be invited to speak.

'I have the intelligence, but I need to go back and help the others.'

Treville looked up from his work, he took in the one man in front of him.

'How many men will you need?'

Athos was pleased Treville was prioritising his men over the intelligence.

'As many as you can spare. With luck they will not be needed, but I would rather be cautious.'

'I'll see to it. They will be ready when you are back from the Palace.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Athos as he turned to leave.

'Are they OK?'

Athos stopped, his hand on the door handle, he turned back to Treville, 'Aramis and d'Artagnan are injured, we could not outrun our pursuers together. I hope to find them well when I return to them, but the man who tried to extract the intelligence from us was…sadistic, in his methods.'

Treville nodded, 'I'll get the men prepared…deliver the intelligence.'

Athos nodded, knowing that Treville would be true to his word.

MMMM

They were stuck in a standoff. The hoped-for disappearance of their enemies had not occurred. When the leader had fallen to the floor, there had been a few minutes of chaotic indecision from the men below them. A few of the men had left but the majority had stayed. It had not taken them long to locate the musketeers. But as predicted the men could not reach them.

A couple of attempts had been thwarted, Porthos and Aramis had managed to take out four men between them with d'Artagnan limiting himself to reloading the guns. As the men retreated the second time it became clear that nothing further was going to happen until dawn. It was too dangerous for the men to climb the narrow path that led to the musketeers and the failing light meant that the musketeers were struggling to make their shots count.

Aramis shivered, as they pushed themselves back under the overhanging rock, he wished they had been able to bring his doublet. In just his shirt sleeves he knew he was in for an uncomfortable night.

'Cold?'

'Of course, I'm cold,' snapped Aramis, regretting it instantly, Porthos looked at him sympathetically, 'sorry, but this is so frustrating.'

'I know, Athos will be back with reinforcements, I'm sure of it…how's our ammunition doing?'

D'Artagnan looked up from his slow methodical, one handed work. He was busy sorting out their weapons and supplies, 'not good, we have to make it count.'

Aramis was looking at d'Artagnan carefully, 'all that noise can't have been good for your head…have we still got my medical bag?'

Porthos reached behind him and found the bag he had dumped in the corner of their small shelter.

'Sorry I didn't think of this before,' said Aramis as he opened the bag and pulled out some herbs, 'try these, it might help a bit with the pain.'

'What about you, you're in as much pain as me?'

'It will only help with your head, I've nothing that can help our other injuries, we've not been anywhere recently that I could collect the right plants for that.'

'Witchcraft,' huffed Porthos as he took the bag from Aramis when he had finished.

'My, witchcraft, has helped you on more than one occasion my friend,' said Aramis with a smile, before he shivered again.

Porthos chuckled before shuffling closer to Aramis who found d'Artagnan had done the same. Huddling together was probably the only way they would make it through the night. The rocks they were sat on offered no warmth, they sat in silence, jealously looking at the campfires below.

MMMM

When Athos returned to the garrison he found a dozen men waiting for him, including the Captain.

'I'm coming as well, I won't be missed for a few hours.'

Athos nodded his thanks as he mounted a fresh horse. They trotted out of the garrison, the early hours of the morning were quiet on the streets, meaning they could move at pace. Athos hoped they would make good time and be back to the spot he had left his brothers quickly.

'How many men are we likely to face?'

'I did not see how many were following us, the castle we were held in was big, I would expect a sizeable number, but the area I left them in was narrow, the landscape will be on our side.'

'And the injuries that Aramis and d'Artagnan carry?'

'D'Artagnan was shot in the arm, he lost blood, he also banged his head. Aramis was tortured by the man from the castle, the man used a knife to remove skin from his back. They are both in considerable pain.'

Treville's expression was one of disgust, 'whatever happened to simply beating a man for information?'

'I believe our captor wanted to make an impact.'

As they cleared the streets of the city the men pushed the horses on to a gallop. The dawn light helping them progress with ease.

MMMM

Now that his head no longer ached d'Artagnan felt a lot more focused. His arm throbbed but he could withstand the pain for now. As the night had progressed Aramis had eventually fallen asleep or passed out, he was leaning against d'Artagnan unable to lean back due to his injury.

Porthos had moved forward a few times to peer over the edge of the rockface and check on their enemy.

'They are having quite a party down there. I think they have wine, I can't make out who's put themselves in charge, there are a couple of men who look like they think they are in charge,' said Porthos as he sat back.

'It's getting light, how long before they try to reach as again?' asked d'Artagnan as he tried to rearrange Aramis who was in danger of slumping into the rear of their shallow cave.

Porthos helped him move the unresponsive man before speaking, 'I think they will try soon. I'm not sure how long we can 'old them back though, if he doesn't wake up again, it's only gonna be me shooting.'

'I can shoot,' said d'Artagnan, Porthos looked at him unsure, 'my head doesn't hurt anymore.'

Porthos nodded his understanding, 'in that case, let's get ourselves sorted out then, see if you can wake him up.'

D'Artagnan tried to rouse the marksman but on getting no response after a couple of minutes he looked back to Porthos with concern.

'He's still shivering, he's OK for now,' said Porthos as he began to undo his doublet. He took the jacket off and after they had moved Aramis to the side of their temporary home he covered the unconscious man with it, 'probably should have done that earlier.'

'No Porthos, you're the only one of the three of us unharmed, we need you fit, not stiff with cold.'

Porthos nodded in reluctant agreement.

Movement below drew their attention.

'Ready for round two?' asked Porthos.

D'Artagnan nodded.

MMMM

Porthos was more worried about their situation than he let on to the younger man. Aramis was unconscious and needed to be warmed up sooner rather than later. And they were running out of ammunition. They were outnumbered and, Porthos suspected, he would be the only one keeping the enemy at bay very shortly. D'Artagnan was still in pain and looked pale. Porthos knew the man would not last much longer.

'Give yourselves up,' came a voice from below, 'you may have killed our leader, but we can still get our money for the information, we will be getting it from you one way or the other. I'm sure we could practice our skinning skills on your unconscious friend some more.'

Porthos and d'Artagnan looked around. The men must have had a clear line of sight towards them to know that Aramis was unconscious. Their situation had not improved. If the men had a line of sight and were close enough to fire a weapon, they could be picked off before they could react.

'I can't see anyone…perhaps their guessing?'

'They may not be watching us now, but the fact that they can ain't good,' replied Porthos as he continued to scan the cliffs on the other side of the road, 'I don't think there is anywhere close enough for them to shoot us, but they know we are down to two…and they'll know you're injured as well. They have the upper hand.'

They looked back down towards the men, who were clearly preparing an assault on their position. With far more enemy men than they had ammunition the odds were stacked against them.

Porthos was about to turn to d'Artagnan when a familiar rumble caught their attention. They both smiled, help had arrived. The soldiers rounding the curve of the road were a welcome sight. The men below them looked over. A few turned and ran without stopping to gather anything. The two self-appointed leaders tried to rally their troops but failed as more men ran or quickly mounted up and galloped away.

A few shots were fired, Porthos saw Treville fire at a man who ran towards him and Athos shot one of the two leaders. As more and more of the men ran a number of the musketeers pursued them. Within minutes the camp had been secured. A few men were captured, but most had run.

Porthos sighed with relief, 'that was too close for my liking.'

He looked around to d'Artagnan who had sagged back against the rocks, the exhaustion clear on his face, but he managed a smile.

MMMM

Athos looked his friends over. Aramis, who had regained consciousness, had been put as close to the campfire as they could get him, his shivering had noticeably subsided. Porthos had given him and d'Artagnan some purloined broth. The escaping men had left before they could enjoy their meal. Porthos was sat watching them both.

'You certainly timed that well,' said Porthos as Athos sat beside him.

'Yes,' replied Athos, 'we did. Were you about to make a one-man last stand?'

D'Artagnan coughed.

'Sorry two-man last stand,' said Athos acknowledging the younger man.

'We wouldn't 'ave stood a chance.'

'No, but at least the intelligence has been passed along,' said Aramis as he finished the broth.

'Are we quite mad to be prepared to sacrifice our own lives?' asked d'Artagnan.

'When we know that by doing so our actions will save many more lives, I do not think that is madness,' pointed out Athos.

D'Artagnan nodded, 'true…although the people we've saved probably won't thank us.'

'They will not know they have been saved,' said Athos, 'they will continue their lives oblivious to the situation that information has averted…that they will continue to live should be thanks enough.'

'I suppose you are right,' said d'Artagnan, 'but a little recognition wouldn't go amiss occasionally.'

Porthos turned to d'Artagnan and, after clearing his throat, said with mock authority, 'Well done, on saving lives.'

D'Artagnan thumped him, then winced as the action jogged his injured arm. Athos rolled his eyes and shook his head whilst Porthos and Aramis struggled to suppress laughter.

The End.

Authors note: I hope you enjoyed it.


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